Responsibility
by ZABBM
Summary: A mysterious being wakens for what seems the first time. The world of Thedas is a cruel place, especially for one that doesn't know what it means to be Human.
1. Chapter 1

I woke, for the first time in my life, on a carriage, headed towards Denerim. The socks on my feet were dirty, but I couldn't know that. I knew nothing. Every sensation was exploding around me, my eyes burned from the wood that surrounded me, unable to understand its being, and my fingers convulsed and contorted as they attempted to realize that they had agency in a world they did not know. My body shook. There was wetness dripping from my mouth. It was my saliva, but in the moment, I was scared of what it could have been. Nothing seemed right, because I had never had the chance to see before.

As my eyes adjusted to their new surroundings, they noticed others like me. Bodies shaking uncontrollably, seizures gripping fantastic creatures, eyes dilating and watering as new information entered them. I looked at my own hand. It was not like the others, there were no harsh edges and sharp claws, no green smoke billowing from the tips. It was what you would describe as Elven, dexterous, lean, thin, small. A small mark, a black stain, a tip of ashen and monstrous skin blemished my knuckle. It was all that ever told me what I was.

To my right, beyond the wood that caged me, was a man. His moustache was well oiled, his eyes burning with arrogance. He looked at me, with what I could even tell was contempt. He spat and laughed.

To my left was another carriage, holding a monstrous creature. He wore a jagged, armoured skin, with horns on his head, and eyes uncountable. He was frothing at the mouth. Tears were welling up in his hundred eyes.

The road was long, and my legs hurt me, even if they did not walk. I began naming things, to pass the time. Using whatever grunts a newborn mind like mine could muster, I started calling out to various objects, hoping that they would react. My cage was _Bok_ , my carriage _Tish,_ my body _Mah_. I learned English later on, but whenever I see these things, I always try to see if they'll call at me back. Maybe I just haven't got their true name.

The arrogant man on the right would poke a large stick at me when I would vocalize at these objects. He was annoyed, and would shout things I could not understand. His staff had a flame on its end, and it scared me. He knew it did. That's why he poked me. His name was _Shik_.

We stopped abruptly, and I noticed that there was no light. I wasn't paying attention. I could still see, even without the fire. As I would travel, my companions would remark on how my eyes were bright, how they shone like they knew the way. Maybe it was a truth; maybe I did know the way. I was awful with directions, though.

 _Shik_ left my side and went to a large campfire. I felt very alone. But then, the monster to my right called to me. I had not given him a name, yet. He was suffering too much; it wouldn't be appropriate. I guess his hurt had abated though. He started moaning, in a bassy, loud voice, trying to get my attention. It was so low, I could barely hear it. But I came to him.

I named him _Nar_. He named me _Hom_. _Nar_ tried to tell me about his leg. He pointed and moaned, and I barely understood. I reached out, trying to get my arm in between the bars, just to get close enough to do… something. I could not reach him. He cried softly, but he thanked me with a pleasant hum.

I heard shouts. _Shik_ had leapt from the campfire, and was running away from the carriages. Some of the other monsters started shrieking. _Nar_ was more confused than scared, but he still made dreadful, low gurgles. I sat and stared. Arrows flew past my face, and one hit me in my arm, I could see black blood bubbling from a skin I did not understand. I was too scared to scream.

Fire began flying, and I saw _Shik_ use his stick to burn a woman. Our cages began burning, and a friend of _Shik_ 's let us free. Some of us. I saw a small creature, eyeless, hunched over, be scorched to death as its cage tumbled and crash. He had no legs to kick himself free, and arms to weak to lift himself up.

All of a sudden, I died, and then, I lived again. I remembered the carriage, but not what had made the sky bright after such darkness. Bodies were still scorching, corpses still crying. But the Sun was still there, and I suddenly knew its name. I knew all names; grass, tree, Human, Elf.

My hand was different. The skin was darker, tanned, scarred. But it was still lean, still as small as it was, still broken by the ashen mark of whatever had hurt me. I stood, and understood my legs. My fingers no longer asked for a reason to be. I was free from my confusion. But now, I had a new problem. Who am I?


	2. Chapter 2

For what seemed like years I walked the plains of Ferelden. I was on the road to Denerim, but I had no idea how far I was from it, or even if I was walking the right direction. Nar was gone. So was Shik. So was everyone. The trail was barren, broken, and quiet. I couldn't hear my footsteps, even; it was like all that was once alive was stripped away on the path.

Trees once littered this path, I remembered, but I do not know how. I had begun on that carriage, and yet, I had earned the knowledge of a lifetime after its destruction. I pondered this as I walked, trying to stave off the nothingness. It did not work, and I only felt more alone.

Night fell, and my legs began to falter. I fell, in the middle of the road, with no help anywhere. After several minutes of struggling to maintain a will to survive, I heard the voices of wolves. No matter my desire to end the endless journey, I did not want to die by the jaws of beasts. I had no defense, and I was scared.

I saw three of them, pacing, eyes burning with a cold, yellow flame. Each looked haggard, hungry. Their leader looked the worst of all of them, ribs poking through patches of exposed skin. These wolves were not normal. The Alpha would have been fed first. This one left the meat to his kin.

I sort of respected them, even as they chose me to die. They sniffed at each other, asking for a battle plan, or so it looked. The two followers were eager to begin ripping me apart, but the leader was hesitant. He walked with a limp, and spoke with a lisp. A talking wolf was the first sign that I was special.

"Why are you in my forest?" I assume this place was a forest. It looked more like a plain struck by war.

"I'm travelling to Denerim, I hope."

"That doesn't bode well for you. Not in the slightest. Are you injured?"

"I haven't eaten in what feels like weeks. My legs cannot support me."

"I want you dead, traveller. I want you to feed my pack. But you are as hungry as we are. We have no use for bones. Mallix, carry her to the Dead Stone. Let nothing harm her. Give her a fair chance."

One of the wolves started changing. I heard a crack, and snapping, but saw nothing clear in the dark. Only the silhouette told me that he had shifted form. With a gnarled, skinny hand, he lifted me, straight up into the air, and as if I were a bag of refuse, held me far from his body, with seemingly no effort.

I did not touch even a branch, in what was called a "forest". I was extremely uncomfortable, given his rough grip on my arm, but I was too famished to try to resist.

"You are shapeshifters?"

"Yes."

"Can you only be wolves?"

"We can be many creatures. Wolves just bring home more food."

"Are you Chasind?"

"Don't insult me."

"Then what are you?"

"Elves. In a forest. What more is there to say?"

After a short distance, we came to a large boulder, covered in moss and plant life. It was taller than two Humans standing on each others' shoulders, but could be climbed with the vines dangling over its sides. Mallix clambered up the stone easily, and placed me on its surprisingly soft peak. I wanted to thank him, but the minute I touched the rock, I fell into an uneasy sleep.


End file.
